Limit (an acrostic poem)

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Looking for that little bit more

I push the pace past what was comfortable into the red zone

Making me breathe harder, faster

It rips a growl from my soul as hit that wall

Then I break through that ceiling.  On to that next level.

Boom (an acrostic poem)

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Bring the explosion of energy to the room

Obliterate any negative thoughts or emotions

Obscure the failings of the past with your positive shockwave

Make those around you rebuild with joy

Watch (an acrostic poem)

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When the hands swept past noon

All eyes were drawn to the two men standing in the street

Today only one of them would walk away

Capping a monumental story of conflict between two protagonists

High above, the bells chimed out, punctuated by two percussive blasts, and then dead silence

Pain (an acrostic poem)

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Push your body past its self-imposed limits

And suffer the wrath of muscle, bone, and sinew

It can be mitigated by medication, but

Nothing will change what you feel, both short term and long, except for time.

Crash (an acrostic poem)

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Clutter of electronics covered his desk like high tech lichen on a wooden rock

Reality bending miracles of the past now mere pieces and memories

And he kept contributing new relics to the collection

Swearing, he flicked the switch again, but

His computer still wasn’t booting, just more of the blue plague infecting his vision

Knife (an acrostic poem)

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Knowing you would keep stabbing me in my back

Never helped in the past and yet

If I didn’t go through that personal hell I wouldn’t be where I am

Finally free of the pain of your sharp slices that cut me down

Enabling me to fly away on angel’s wings

Wipe (an acrostic poem)

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Washing her hands of the situation, she put away the cleaning supplies.

It was far past the point of no return, but it would still be proper to make things tidy

Perhaps she could even burn a candle to help with the smell.

Except the police would be here soon, so it was time to be off.

Perfume (an acrostic poem)

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Putting globules of memories into the air

Enabling the scent of the past to permeate the world

Rose and citrus mixed with grandma and the lake

Funny how smell is the sense that triggers all this

Urging us to remember

Molding the moment into something nostalgic

Except when it causes us to sneeze

Yarn (an acrostic poem)

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Yearning to wear soft cashmere sweaters

Asking others to make them for me seems silly since I could make one

Reaching for my knitting needles I start my first stitch

Now after five hours, and not getting past stitch three, I pick up the phone and call…

Angle (an acrostic conversation)

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And that’s when I asked about his heavy drinking past”

Now that’s a new one.  I never knew he did that.”

Gonna confess, he doesn’t have one”

Let me get this right, you asked someone about a past you know they didn’t have?”

Everyone has a ghost, I just picked the wrong haunted house.”